


Sounds

by mssdare



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: ASMR, Anger, Anger Management, Dom/sub Undertones, Haircuts, Hux is a Tease, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is a Mess, M/M, Medical Kink, Objectification, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Self-Hatred, Sleep Deprivation, Sounding, Voyeurism, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssdare/pseuds/mssdare
Summary: Kylo is tired and searching for a remedy that would help him relax and fall asleep. He tries some ASMR videos on YouTube.





	Sounds

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entry for KyluxXoXo Summer Fest. Week 5 "Play Time".  
> Words used: role-play, game, magic.
> 
> Check out all the Fest entries here: [KyluxSummerFest2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KyluxSummerFest2018)
> 
> Thank you Sillygoose for the beta! 
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR WARNINGS.

SOUNDS

 

The “deep relaxation” yoga class is boring as fuck, and so fucking _slow_ that Kylo wants to roll on his stomach and punch the wooden floor in a fit of frustration. Instead of putting his mind at ease, it allows for intrusive thoughts to circle around in Kylo’s head, like black tornados of paint in a glass of water, until he feels like he’s bursting out of his skin.

Before he’s warmed up enough to get his body nicely pliant from the exertion, the class draws to a close, and everyone is asked to lie down on the floor for the final moments of relaxation. Kylo’s cold and tired—so very tired he can feel waves of exhaustion rippling through his body, heat pangs interspersed with cold shivers. The sour-sweet taste of fatigue makes his mouth dry. His eyes burn and, despite being told to keep them closed, he opens them and looks up at the classroom ceiling. The lights are dimmed; the burble of rushing water and the deep sound of bells from a sound track fill the air. The heavy scent of incense makes Kylo’s stomach churn in protest, bile rising up in his throat. He shivers again and turns his head, watches the tree branches moving in the wind outside the studio’s huge window. In the bluish light of evening, they look like ghosts reaching out for Kylo, threatening to drag him underground and bury him beneath their roots.

Kylo closes his eyes, hating the tears that escape his lids while he does so. His cheeks burn, his nose is stuffed, and he just wants this torture to end.

He drags himself home later, groggy, with heavy footsteps. He’s still very cold, and the chilly wind that whips his hoodie open feels like a final ironic blast from the universe.

If the class did anything for him, it made him feel even more miserable and useless than before. The positions—as slow and boring as they were—required his body to bend in the most unnatural ways, and he hates to be incompetent, hates to fail at anything, even something as insignificant as a beginners’ yoga class. He wishes he felt resigned and sad—those are feelings he could work with, lull his mind to sleep with, but no, his fucking brain won’t give him a break. He’s angry with himself, feels the need to punish himself in some way, to destroy himself and everything around him.

He should be too tired to feel any rage, he thinks, bitterly. He just wants to sleep, and he knows that he won’t be able to. _Again_. This yoga class was his last desperate attempt to find a sleeping aid that’s not a drug, something that wouldn’t leave him groggy and useless the next day. He’s tried everything: running, music, light therapy, even a stupid mobile sleeping app. But nothing works. Jogging makes him even more restless; instead of tiring him out it makes him feel hyped up for hours after. Music is a distraction and feels like an itch in his brain, and all the mobile apps are a joke, good for new-age-inspired hipsters.

Alcohol works, but only temporarily. And he can’t get wasted every single night only to wake up to hungover, vomiting his guts out because for some reason his body despises him. Weed is actually best, but he’s out of his stash and Dameron says he can’t provide Kylo with more than 10 grams per week because he already feels like a drug dealer.

Kylo swats his cheek, pretending that he’s wiping away angry tears, not hitting himself because he can’t deal with how hopeless he is.

At home he tosses the keys in the drawer by the door, goes to his bedroom, and lies down with his shoes still on. He tries to do some breathing exercises—as if he hasn’t been doing that for the last hour and a half, but it’s so stupid. Everything is so stupid. He feels the waves of self-loathing, thinks they will sweep him away beyond reason, so as a way of distraction he crawls to the head of the bed where his laptop lies abandoned, charging. He opens YouTube and plays whatever the site recommends—some idiotic videos about cats and cucumbers that are not even funny and basically repeat one scene over and over.

After half an hour he’s ready to _die_. Nothing makes sense anymore. He’s both agitated and full of despair at the same time. He just wants to _stop existing_. Then everything would end, and he wouldn’t have to deal with himself. He clicks on the next video and the next, and then types ASMR in the search because this is something Rey told him he should try. He’s pretty sure that whatever this shit is, it won’t help him, but at least he’ll be able to say that he tried and that it didn’t work, so he can go back to alcohol and weed and just be done with himself.

*

The vids are… a new kind of torture. The whispering makes Kylo want to scratch himself all over. This is horrid. This is—Why would anyone subject themselves willingly to something like this? The whispers—oh Christ, they make Kylo’s bum _wrinkle_. He rubs his feet against each other and buries his fingers in his hair, tugging. This is a nightmare, even worse than that fucking yoga class.

Because he’s reached the stage of self-loathing where he just wants to burn, he clicks on the next video and the next. The “ASMR Darling” YouTuber is cute and sweet at least, not so serious about it all when she laughs into the microphone while some tape she’s stuck to her face falls off. She reminds Kylo of Rey somehow, and he smiles despite himself, because his little sister is actually the only good thing that has ever happened to him in his life. A true “Rey of sunshine.”

Kylo clicks on the next video, intrigued by the “light triggers.” It’s something he can focus his attention on. He doesn’t get tingles, no pins and needles—he’s pretty sure he’s immune to this sensation. But after couple of hours of watching those vids he’s tired and entranced enough that he actually does fall asleep, with the laptop still on, warming his thighs, and the headphones digging uncomfortably into his head and ears.

*

The next evening, he finds himself back on the bed, in his T-shirt and boxer briefs, ready to sleep with laptop ready. He slept surprisingly well, if too briefly, and he’s ready to try again whatever the vids provided last night.

For a while he fiddles with the videos, jumping from one to another, trying out the recommended ones until he catches a sight of a handsome young man with a flare of bright red hair. He clicks on the first video under the redhead’s profile. It says “[ASMR] Hairdresser Roleplay. Hair snipping sounds, tapping, no whispering.”

It’s the “no whispering” that catches Kylo’s attention the most—well, apart from how the redhead is incredibly pretty to look at—because it’s the whispering that actually annoys him the most. He’s pleasantly reassured when the redhead starts in a low, but definitely not whispering voice, “Hello everyone, I’m Hux, and today we’re going to play hairdresser and cut some hair.” He smiles, and it lights up his whole face. He’s got a beautiful smile, suiting his full, light-pink lips and showing off his straight teeth. His hair is falling into his eyes, and Hux shakes his head, and when that doesn’t help he brushes the hair away with his hand. He’s got the most beautiful long elegant fingers Kylo’s ever seen.

Kylo stares at Hux like he’s a work of art.

“So, for this video I’ve got the professional scissors, you can see here.” Hux reaches for shiny silver scissors and opens and closes them a few times next to the mic. “As you can hear, they make a lovely snip. I also have this comb.” He runs his fingernail over the comb’s teeth, making it go clickety-clack. “And this special mist.” He shows a cobalt blue glass bottle with a spray cap on top. Hux’s nails click against the bottle. “Oh, I love this sound. This bottle is such high quality. But you deserve the most luxurious products, don’t you?” He looks up from under his lashes in the most flirtatious way, and Kylo decides that whatever Hux is going to show him, Kylo is game. He will watch it _all_ —ASMR or not.

“Let’s begin, then.” Hux starts by spraying the mist around the camera—around Kylo’s hair. The sound of it is a low, soothing, squishy-rustling, at irregular intervals. Hux’s eyes linger over Kylo as if he can see Kylo for real, as if he’s making sure that Kylo’s hair is all wet.

Kylo’s scalp starts to tickle slightly, and his breath catches.

“Your hair is so nice, so soft and lush,” Hux says in reverence, and Kylo’s heart skips a beat. “We won’t cut too much of it, just trim the front here, and take a little off the back. You’ll look beautiful, I promise.”

Still, when Hux takes the scissors and starts “cutting” the hair, Kylo backs up a bit. He’s been growing out his hair forever, and he’s very particular about it, making sure it covers his big ears. It takes him a moment to remind himself none of this is real.

Hux snips a lock after lock. He must be using some kind of hair or maybe ribbons, because the sound isn’t that of empty scissors opening and closing but of real hair snipping. Hux moves his arms around Kylo’s head, alternating between the sides, up and down. Hux’s microphone must really be of the highest quality to catch all the various little changes in tone and timbre. The sounds surround Kylo in the most natural way.

“You look so handsome.” Hux’s voice is syrupy sweet, low, as if he’s talking right into Kylo’s ear, and Kylo feels a shiver running up his spine. “I love your hair. It’s so thick, so silky.” Hux looks slightly flushed as if “cutting” Kylo’s hair has affected him. Meanwhile, Kylo feels like he’s _flying_ , suspended in the air right in the middle of his bedroom.

So, this is what ASMR is about, Kylo thinks almost an hour later, when Hux is winding down the video. Kylo’s body is relaxed, his scalp is tingly and sensitive as if he’s actually been at the hairdresser’s and had a scalp massage and a haircut. His skin tingles _everywher_ e.

He also can’t ignore that he’s a little hard, but he blames it on Hux’s tone of voice, the sheer marvel in it when Hux says, “You’ve been such a good client. You look beautiful, so nice.” Kylo would be embarrassed, only no one will ever know; no one will judge him for this. Hux will _never_ know.

Kylo goes to the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water from the tap, drinks it, and stays there, looking through the kitchen window for a while. His body is still buzzing, his cock is still half-hard, and his throat is dry despite the water. He takes some orange juice out of the fridge, pours it into the same glass, and takes it back to his bedroom. He should try to sleep while he still feels relaxed, but he can’t stop thinking about how Hux’s lips look so exquisite when he mouths “beautiful,” how fulfilled Kylo feels when he hears Hux saying so. There’s no harm if he watches just a little bit more, is there? He’s got nowhere to be the next morning, and he can go to bed as late as he wants. And it’s not as if he’s not skipped a night of sleep in his life—at least this time he’s relaxed and not wanting to bang his head on the wall until his thoughts go away.

He settles back on his bed, headphones on, the glass of juice on his nightstand, and he chooses the next video on Hux’s “Roleplay” playlist. This one is named: “[ASMR] Complete Physical Examination Roleplay, male sounding,” and the icon shows Hux holding a small flashlight. Since Kylo liked the light effects of the other vids, he’s particularly curious about this one. But to be honest, he just wants to hear Hux say in that velvety voice of his, “You’re so pretty, so beautiful.” The sole thought of it sends a wave of arousal to Kylo’s groin. He clicks on the link and opens it in full window.

Hux’s hair is slicked back, he’s wearing glasses that make him look distinguished but hot at the same time, and he’s got a white old-fashioned doctor’s apron on.

“Hello everyone,” Hux says. He’s looking straight into the camera and the light reflecting in his glasses makes his eyes look greener than usual. He’s positively beautiful.

“Tonight, we’re going to play doctor for a while, so please look at the tags and description of this video so you can avoid anything that might be unpleasant for you. Remember to always take care of yourself. Please, pay special attention to the sounding tag. If you want to avoid this particular part, finish watching the video before the twenty-four minute mark. I’ll warn you again before we proceed in case you get lost in sensations.”

Kylo is a little confused. Isn’t ASMR supposed to be about _sound_? So why warn about it?

“Let’s start.” The screen goes blank for a moment and then the setting changes and Hux is sitting behind a white desk with several instruments lying in metal containers set in neat rows on a piece of white cloth. There’s also a jar full of wooden spatulas and a stack of papers in front of him.

“Good morning, Mr…?” Hux says, raising an eyebrow, and consults the paper on his desk. “Ah, right, I have you signed up for today for a full body examination.” The paper shuffles in Hux’s hand, no doubt on purpose. It makes Kylo nervous for some reason, as if he’s anticipating a real exam.

“I see it’s been quite a while since you’ve had a full examination. Please remember you are supposed to do so every year. It is very important.”

Kylo’s cheeks heat up. He feels as if he’s failed a test before it has even started. He waits for more scolding, but Hux just sighs and adjusts his glasses. “Okay, let us proceed, then. We’ll check your throat first.” He reaches for the glass with wooden spatulas, takes one out, and clicks it gently on the jar. It emits a nice ringing sound, and for a moment Kylo is transfixed, his nerves settling down.

“Open your mouth for me,” Hux says looking _straight_ at Kylo. And Kylo does.

“Good.” The way Hux says this—this is exactly what Kylo was looking for. He’s yearned for this praise, for the tone of pride in Hux’s voice.

“Say ‘Aaaah.’ Great. All looks good here. Now, let’s check your lungs.”

Hux takes a stethoscope and taps very gently on the membrane. It’s a very dull sound, barely there. Hux reaches out to place the end of the stethoscope where Kylo’s chest should be.

“Good. Breathe in. And now breathe out. Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Hold. Out. Very good.” The praise in Hux’s voice is so genuine. “Again.”

It lasts and lasts, much longer than any actual medical exam would, or maybe it’s just Kylo getting lost in time and space, following the directions to inhale, hold, exhale, wait, inhale—until he’s lightheaded and his skin feels so tight he thinks he’ll burst and leave his physical body to become a wandering spirit.

“Now,” Hux says, and when did he put the stethoscope away? He’s holding a small flashlight, and he clicks on the on and off button for a few times, making the light flicker and the button tap. Then he runs his fingernails over the side of the flashlight. It’s a satisfying sound, too.

“Let me check your responses. Please, follow the light with your eyes.”

Hux flashes the light straight into the camera, right where Kylo’s eyes are. “Look up, and across, and up, and back down. On my ear, please, and up again.” This lasts even longer than the chest exam, and despite Kylo thinking it couldn’t get any better for him, it _is_ better. He actually doesn’t watch, he just _feels_. He’s hypnotized.

It is so good. It’s magical.

“You’re an amazing patient,” Hux says, placing the flashlight back on the desk. “You’re doing so well.”

He adjusts the lighting and microphone, fidgets with the settings for a moment. He leans into the camera. His eyes are very green, lips so pink, voice so smooth when he says, “Now is the time to leave if you don’t feel like being sounded.”

As if Kylo would. Kylo would jump into the fire if Hux asked him to right now.

“Good,” Hux says after a moment. “Don’t be anxious. I’ll walk you through every step of it. Please, take off your underwear.”

And, God help him, Kylo knows this isn’t real, but he does take off his boxer briefs. He ignores how idiotic it is to sit in front of his laptop stark naked, just in his headphones.

Hux reaches for the metal container with long, shiny metal rods of various thickness. Kylo has never seen anything like this.

“Here are the tools I’ve prepared for you today,” Hux says with reverence. “They are high quality stainless steel. Listen to how beautiful those sounds sound.” He smiles at his little joke and taps one rod over the other. “As you see, we have these slimmer ones and we’ll start with the second on the left, and then we might proceed to a thicker one, but only if you feel comfortable with it. You have nothing to worry about. I’m going to lube up the tip of the sound, as well as the tip of your penis, and we’ll start the sounding.”

Kylo gulps and pauses the video. This is not happening. _What_. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He opens a new window in his browser and writes “sounding penis,” clicks on the images, and gasps. _Oh fuck._

He closes his eyes for a moment—there’s no way in hell he’s not watching this whole video without coming. This must be an abuse of the whole ASMR idea. He’s so bad.

He goes back to the video and, with burning cheeks, watches Hux pick up a tall bottle and turn it upside down, squeezing out some of the clear substance on his fingers.

“This is surgical lube,” Hux explains, squeezing the bottle again next to the microphone. “This sounds nice, doesn’t it?” Hux rubs his fingers together, emitting a gently squelching sound as he does so.

Kylo has to take a breath. He feels as if he’s watching a porn video made especially for him. Something so real that it almost makes him gasp. He’s dying of anticipation. He’s ashamed too, because clearly this guy has worked hard to keep this video as professional and pleasant for his viewers as possible. This video has a purpose. And the purpose is certainly _not_ getting Kylo off.

But when Hux leans to the camera, licks his lips, and looks straight into Kylo’s eyes, he says lowly, “I’m going to press this tip to your hole now and insert the sound in. You might feel some tightness, but there shouldn’t be any pain,” Kylo is too far gone to care anymore. This is the best porn he’s ever seen.

Hux’s hands are visible in front of the camera and the angle of it makes it look as if he’s actually holding Kylo’s penis in his other hand, pressing the shiny, lubed sound inside of it.

“Breathe out for me now,” Hux says, and Kylo does. He is so hard he’s not going to have to touch himself long once this is over before he orgasms. Hux didn’t say anything about the possibility of him getting hard, but he hopes it’s okay, because he doesn’t want to disappoint the redheaded doctor. This not being real doesn’t matter at all anymore.

Hux leans back a little, lubes up the sound more, and then brings the tip of the rod back to the camera. “You’re doing beautifully,” he says.

The praise almost makes Kylo cry. _Yes, he’s doing well. Hux has said so._

“This feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hux asks with a smile. His eyes twinkle in the light. Kylo could lick the screen to get closer. He watches Hux’s hand that retreats and pushes forward as if he is fucking Kylo’s dick with the metal sound. The sound is so shiny and pretty, and Kylo can vividly imagine how it would look vanishing inside his penis.

It lasts and lasts. It’s mesmerizing.

“Is it pleasurable for you?” Hux asks. His voice is almost a whisper. His pupils are dilated.

 _Yes,_ Kylo mouths. _It is so pleasurable for him._

“You’re the best patient I’ve ever had,” Hux says. It sounds really genuine. The praise goes to Kylo’s brain, heart, groin—he _moans out loud._

“Okay. I’m going to remove the sound now. Breathe out. Thank you. You did amazingly well. You’ll need to urinate now, so I’ll leave you to it. You are perfectly healthy, so there are no further instructions but to come back here for another examination before the year ends. Thank you.”

The black screen is almost like an anticlimax, but then Hux’s face appears again, in a normal bedroom setting this time.

“Thank you for joining me tonight. Let me know in the comments section what you thought of the video, and don’t forget to hit the subscribe button. If you would like to see similar videos in the future, let me know. Next time we can do a prostate exam video, if you’d like. You can also find me on Instagram and on Twitter, or email me. Thank you!”

Kylo is still so hard he can’t think straight when he clicks on the info section, then on the link to Twitter, and then the DM section.

 _I loved your sounding video._ He types. _You’re incredible. I’ve never felt like this in my life… Thank you._

He jerks off then, three swift strokes before he’s coming so hard he sees black spots dancing in front of his eyes. His ears are still ringing so he thinks he must be imagining things when he hears a low ping from phone signaling an incoming message.

Kylo isn’t expecting an answer from Hux. He typed his message in an impulsive way, using his real-life account because he was too out of it to even think he probably shouldn’t message a YouTuber.

 _Thank you! I aim to please._ The message says. Kylo breathes out. This is good, they’ve just been polite to each other. So he’s not prepared when ten minutes later another ping signals yet another message.

_Would you like to see more? I do personal vids as well._

Kylo could write this message off and explain it in a thousand ways. But he doesn’t.

His breath hitches and his hands shake when he types back, _Yes._


End file.
